


Morituri Te Salutant

by shadow_hood



Category: O Sarilho
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spoilers, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:47:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27604418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_hood/pseuds/shadow_hood
Summary: An analysis of what it means to be dead, or the canonfic where Nikita can't sleep
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Morituri Te Salutant

Morituri Te Salutant, or an analysis on what it means to die.

When you become a military soldier, a part of you dies. 

Or to be exact, it goes into slumber. You’re expected to fulfill your duty to the country, to fight for your cause. 

And sure, there are good times, where you eat and imbibe with your comrades, the ones who fight beside you. The good times, where you trade jokes and barbs and laugh your worries away.

But then the bad times come. And when the bad times come they hit hard. 

The dead are left as nothing. The living are left with nothing.

The living are left to pick up the pieces and continue as if life were normal, as if they can eat and imbibe and fight for another day. And they have their jokes and barbs. 

But they do it alone now.

And there are no more laughs.

____________________________________________

The thing about being a rich man’s lover is that you also enjoy the finer pickings cast his way, too. Lush pillows, soft sheets, a room lavishly decorated. 

Said rich man sleeps peacefully, as politically scheming in the day takes a toll.

Nikita stays awake, staring in the dark.

He quietly walks to the window, only pausing to gently stroke Steffano’s cheek as he passes. The crows don’t stop him as they look at him curiously. Outside, Salamanca is asleep, the city’s stone roads quiet except for the light torches sprinkled here and there, the baker doing his nightly preparations and the sweeper cleaning the streets. Here and there there are some augurs still whispering to each other, waiting to feel the buzz of the computer’s connection, and there is sometimes a soldier marching casually, a sentry in the dark.

Salamanca is asleep, but still alive.

Nikita is awake, but feels barely alive.

Sleeping is for those who have nothing to fear, or who can reserve their busy lives with a modicum of peace. But not Nikita, no, never for him. 

To do so would be an injustice and unfair to Mikhail. What peace does he deserve? He failed to bring his brother home. 

If this mission had gone more successfully, then Mikhail would still be here.

And so Nikita plots. Nikita simmers. Nikita bides his time.

“Nikita?”

Nikita doesn’t look away from the window, the city still sprawled. He doesn’t look away, as Steffano’s arms reach around him.

“Go back to sleep, Steffano.”

“I’m not going back until you do.”

A sigh, the only sound left in the quiet night.

“If I promise to come to bed in five minutes, will you leave me alone?”

“Gladly-”

A kiss. 

“-But I’ll hold you to it.”

A chuckle, coming from the one who feels dead. 

“Then go back.”

Steffano gave him a cheeky grin and quietly went back to bed. It had been a long day, and while Steffano would like to stay awake to hold Nikita to the bargain, Hypnos’ embrace was much more enticing at the moment. The snores were a testament to that.

Nikita’s fond smile slipped as he slowly turned back to the window. Out there, out in the world that still turns, that is still alive….he hears the voices. 

And he promises. Oh, he promises.

The dead, it beckons.

And I will answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for a friend Shizamura, go check out her sci-fi webcomic O Sarilho! It's got Roman soldiers, computers, angst and REALLY amazing art!
> 
> https://sarilho.net/en


End file.
